January Check-In: A Quietly Good Start

Twenty-two days into January, I think I finally have enough data to say—confidently—that I’m off to a good start this year.

After taking January 1st off, I’ve run 17 of the last 21 days, putting me just over a 75% run rate for the year so far. That lines up closely with what I was doing back in 2020 and 2021 during some of my strongest training years, which feels like a meaningful benchmark.

Mileage-wise, I’m sitting at 79.05 miles, which puts me on pace for about 111 miles for the month. One hundred miles is clearly within reach, with room to exceed it if things keep trending the way they are. Pace has been respectable too—averaging a little over 8:30 per mile. I’ve mixed in a few quicker efforts, kept plenty of easy days easy, and tried to stay focused on consistency more than anything else.

Every run this year except one has been on the treadmill, thanks to a brutally cold January. That’s been fine overall—it’s allowed me to stay consistent and catch up on a few TV shows—but mornings have been the biggest challenge. I was waking up at 5:45 and still not getting on the treadmill until after 6:30. I moved my alarm to 5:35…and still didn’t get on the treadmill until 6:30. Time pressure has been my biggest obstacle lately, with nearly every part of the day feeling fully booked.

Today was a good example of how unpredictable motivation can be. I woke up tired and unmotivated, with the modest goal of just getting through two miles. Five and a quarter miles later, I had doubled my energy level—and my sense of accomplishment. Most of the run sat around a 9:15 pace, but I finished the last 1.25 miles at 8:00 flat, which felt strong and controlled.

I still haven’t fully captured that light, effortless feeling of peak fitness, and maybe that’s just part of getting older. But I’m starting to appreciate a different perspective: the ability to run 5.25 miles at all, to finish stronger than I started, and to feel better afterward than before—that’s worth acknowledging. Even if it’s a little slower and doesn’t feel quite as easy as it once did, it still counts. And right now, consistency matters more than anything else.

For now, the plan is simple: keep showing up. The focus over the next few weeks is on maintaining consistency, letting the mileage build naturally, and resisting the urge to force fitness before it’s ready. If things continue to feel stable, I may start to layer in a small amount of intentional structure—but only if it fits cleanly on top of what’s already working. There’s no rush. This is about laying a foundation that lasts, trusting that sharper fitness will come as a result of steady work rather than chasing it outright.

January Course Correction

22.5 miles over the last four days has more than doubled my mileage for 2026, and suddenly I’m back on pace to clear 100 miles in January. Even better, despite the uptick in volume, I don’t really feel any worse for the wear. I eased off the gas in November and December and coasted a bit, but it looks like I mostly held onto my gains and am ready to start building again.

One of the first tools I used when I got back into running was the Nike Run Club app. I logged my first run on the last day of 2018 and have been recording miles ever since. NRC assigns “run levels” based on lifetime mileage, and after cycling through yellow, orange, green, blue, and purple fairly quickly, I hit Black at 3,106 lifetime miles. That was back in early 2021, and I’ve been sitting there ever since.

The highest level—Volt—requires 9,320 lifetime miles. I’m now just 1,205 miles away.

At my current pace, I’m barely on track to reach it by the end of 2026. It’s one of those silly goals that won’t actually mean anything when I finally get there—but it’s still fun to chase. And when it happens, I’ll probably reward myself with a new pair of shoes or a t-shirt at the very least.

Whatever it takes to stay motivated—but the real goal is simply maintaining my health and fitness. The levels, miles, and streaks are just tools. The best reward is being able to head out the door for a run with my daughters and share the love of it with them.

Hello 2026

I wrapped up December with a respectable 77.9 miles—a huge contrast to the 2 miles I ran in December of 2024, the zero I ran in December of 2023, and even the 38 miles I managed in December of 2022. The data is pretty clear: Decembers are historically rough for me. Still, despite that pattern, I hung in there.

Those December miles were just enough to push me past my big goal for the year. I finished 2025 with 1,007.32 miles, which is more than I ran in 2023 and 2024 combined. That fact alone makes the year feel like a real turning point.

January hasn’t exactly been a fireworks show either—but again, I’m still showing up. Five runs in the first eight days, totaling 18.38 miles. Not spectacular, but consistent. And consistency is doing the heavy lifting right now.

I did gain some weight over the holidays, which is discouraging—but not surprising. Short, cold days mean less incidental movement, more hunger, and an endless supply of holiday junk food. Not a great combination, just the reality I’m working through.

As for 2026, the main goal is simple: beat last year’s 1,007 miles. I’m a little off pace so far, but still well ahead of where I was this time last January. Ideally, I’ll aim for—and often hit—100 miles per month. No guarantees, just steady work.

For now, the theme continues: not crushing it, not quitting—just hanging in there. And that’s been enough to get me this far... and come spring I hope that the fresh air and sunshine will kindle this fire and I can take it to the next level.

Still Here. Still Running.

Only 20 days left in 2025 and somehow I’m still doing this!

Not inspired. Not motivated. Not even fully awake. But doing it.

I’m at 33 miles for the month and 963 for the year, which means I’m basically crawling toward 1,000 like a man who forgot why he started but refuses to stop.

Every morning at 5:30 a.m., I rise from the dead, stagger to the treadmill, and squeeze out 30 minutes at sub-9 pace.., Not because I want to…but because apparently this is who I am now.

Nothing exciting. Just stubbornness in motion.

Turkey Trots, Cold Mornings, and Chasing Down 1000 Miles

Taking 5 of the last 10 days off from running was definitely not the recipe for keeping my 100-mile monthly streak alive—but even so, November still ended up being a win. I logged 83.57 miles this month, which absolutely blows last November’s 21.52 out of the water. And with the 4 miles I squeezed in this morning, I’ve already doubled my December mileage compared to last year.

Now I’m down to 66.57 miles left until I crack 1000 for the year. It’s close enough that the finish line finally feels real.

But in the more immediate and vastly more fun category: the twins and I ran a Turkey Trot on Thanksgiving morning.

It was cold—28 degrees—but honestly, it could’ve been worse. The sun was shining, the wind wasn’t trying to kill us, and now that the girls are almost 14, these events come with zero stress and maximum fun. For the first time ever, I wasn’t worried about anything except enjoying the moment.

We all started together, tucked in with a few of Maya’s XC teammates. The opening stretch was packed, crawling along at an 8:20 pace for the first quarter mile. But once the crowd thinned, the girls surged ahead, and I picked it up to close the gap. We hit the first mile in about 7:30.

Kenna—running this thing completely untrained—fell back a touch but kept grinding. She still held strong and finished at a sub-8 pace, clocking 23:57 for 3 miles. Tough as nails, that kid.

Maya, though, coming off a XC state championship, was a different story. As the race went on, she just kept accelerating. At the halfway point her XC teammates fell back, and suddenly it was just the two of us.

Mile 2? 7:15 pace.

And then she absolutely dropped the hammer.

With one mile left, Maya kicked into another gear and we started passing people like we had someplace to be. Just before the final turn she looked at me and said, “We don’t have to sprint at the end, do we?”

I told her, “We can do whatever you want.”

She said she didn’t want to sprint…and then turned the corner and took off like she was shot out of a cannon.

She finished strong; I finished barely hanging on. Final mile: 6:38. Final time: 21:21.

We were back home by 9:30—before anyone else had even rolled out of bed—and I was carving vegetables and basting a turkey while still riding the high of that finish.

A cold morning, a shared effort, a fast last mile with my daughter, and one more memory logged on the road to 1000 miles. Pretty hard to beat.

Warming Up to Myself

Today marked my third day of running in a row—something that initially felt surprising until I checked the numbers and realized I’ve actually run 16 of the last 21 days. That’s roughly three out of every four days. Funny how the mind frames things: the streak feels accidental, almost fragile, yet the reality suggests a level of consistency I rarely give myself credit for. If I run tomorrow, the streak becomes “above average,” but even without that, the pattern is already there.

This morning’s run felt like a small gift. Forty-seven degrees in late November is warm enough to crack open the door to the outdoors again, so I took it. I didn’t expect much—certainly not speed—but I ended up running 3.13 miles at a 7:26 pace. It was definitely a push, though not outside any true limits. Mostly it just felt foreign because I haven’t asked my body to run fast in a long while. And somehow, outside of a couple of 5Ks and a few random one-mile tests, this was my fastest run since June of 2022.

What makes it interesting is that it wasn’t planned. I meant to pick up the pace a little, but I didn’t have any number in mind. My legs handled the progression on their own: 7:54 in mile one, 7:02 in mile three, with the middle mile bridging the gap. By the last mile I was working, sure, but the only real difference between the early slog and the late surge was being warmed up. I used to be able to step out the door and hit the gas immediately. Now I need a mile—sometimes more—to remember where the rhythm lives. Maybe that’s aging. Maybe it’s wisdom. Maybe it’s just the body refusing to skip necessary steps I’ve ignored for years.

I’m at 70.8 miles for the month and on pace for 101 in November. Less than 84 miles stand between me and 1,000 for the year. My average pace for 2025 sits at 8:39—my slowest to date, barely edging out last year’s 8:37. But since July, I’ve been stringing together sub-8:30 runs, gradually tugging the average downward. The numbers shift slowly, but they do shift.

There’s something grounding in that. The data shows a version of me I don’t always see in the moment: steady, persistent, willing to keep showing up even when I don’t feel sharp or fast or particularly inspired. Maybe the real warm-up isn’t the first mile—it’s the long stretch of days where I keep putting one foot in front of the other, waiting for the version of myself that remembers how to push, how to trust the legs, how to run freely again.

And every now and then—like today—that version shows up

Maintenance Mode

Some days you stack the deck against yourself, and some days the stars just quietly align. Lately I’ve been taking more days off as the year winds down, but I’m still plugging away. And this morning, I hit the rare combo: a genuinely good night of sleep and waking up early.

That small victory turned into a bigger one—7.25 treadmill miles at an 8:29 pace, over an hour on my feet. A little longer than what I’ve been doing recently, but still comfortably within reach.

That run nudges my monthly total to nearly 64 miles and my yearly total to almost 910. Having fewer than 100 miles left to hit the year-long goal is doing exactly what I hoped it would: keeping me consistent even if I’m not exactly fired up to “build” right now. Maintenance mode isn’t glamorous, but it’s still movement—and it counts.

Speaking of maintaining, my weight has held steady around 180 for about six weeks now. If I can hold that line through the Christmas-cookie gauntlet, that alone will be a win worth celebrating.

There’s not much more to say, and not much motivation to say it—but I’m hanging in, moving forward, and keeping the wheels turning. Sometimes that’s enough.